Hedda Morrison

Cheung Chau, one of Hong Kong's smaller islands, had an intriguing village community. In 1946 – 47 it was the only island with a substantial population settled in one place, although nearby Lantau Island had more people spread around its much longer coastline. Cheung Chau was one of the few islands then served by ferries. And, for a photographer, it held great appeal. Its fishing boats and coves were interesting, and seascapes spread out towards other outlying islands.

There is no record of how long Hedda Morrison spent photographing on Cheung Chau. Was it
one visit over a number of days, repeated visits
or perhaps a single day with clear skies? The similarities in her clouds, the mirror seas and
the fishing boats suggest this chapter's images may have been the work of a single day; and,
given Morrison's experience, such a range of images certainly could have resulted from one
day with such favourable light. By now a mature photographer, Hedda Morrison had developed

that deeply ingrained – almost intuitive – ability
to spontaneously identify locations and subjects; and then, by predicting the changing conditions of light, to produce a set of images from a single day photographing.

Morrison, during her time in Hong Kong, may sometimes have recalled the subdued inland light of north China – so different from the brilliance of subtropical light. Knowing the hazy polluted days that Hong Kong now often experiences, one must marvel at these crisp Cheung Chau views. The clarity of the resplendent skies seen in these website photos all bear witness to an intangible, yet pervading and troubling loss – of Hong Kong's once clear visibility, of its shimmering light.